


Perception

by Ordinarycupid12



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Death, Grim Reapers, Original Fiction, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 07:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16132940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordinarycupid12/pseuds/Ordinarycupid12
Summary: It's physically impossible to guide thousands of souls to the afterlife all by yourself, which is why I have so many children. Wait- no, they aren't my actual children, but that's what I like to call them. 'My children' sounds way nicer than 'My Reapers’. It sounds way too ominous, in my opinion.





	Perception

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work! Please leave any constructive criticism you have in the comments, thanks!! :D

It's physically impossible to guide thousands of souls to the afterlife all by yourself, which is why I have so many children. Wait- no, they aren't my actual children, but that's what I like to call them. 'My children' sounds way nicer than 'My Reapers’. It sounds way too ominous, in my opinion.

Sorry I'm getting off topic. As I was saying, my children aid me in my work by guiding the souls that I can't reach out to, whether it's because I have my hands full with another or the gods called for me again. you might be asking how they come to be in the first place. Well they were once Lost Souls themselves.

Now, very rarely do we miss a soul, we try our best not to keep them waiting. But of course we were all human once, and we all make mistakes...

I look towards the sky as snow falls from the clouds above, Its probably frigid out right now, not that I can really feel it. I am death after all, but the Lost Soul does. Lost souls always feel cold until we finally guide them. The snow crunches under my boots as I make my way towards one of the newer looking graves and kneel down, using my hand to clean the snow off the granite. "Noah Marble" I read out loud. 

"I don't know you." A voice says from behind me as if summoned. I look over my shoulder to see an almost transparent boy, at least he hasn't disappeared completely... 

His black hair fell over his eyes hiding them from view. His mouth in a frown as his small pale hands grip at the hem of his Shirt. I frown, heart breaking when I see just how small he is. I look down to the stone to see the date under his name, 'october 21,1944 --December 23,1951'. I bite my lip when I realize that we left a 7 year old all by himself here in the cold for over a week... 

"Why are you at my grave if i don't know you" he says a little harshly, putting up a front despite the fact that you could visibly see him trembling. I stand up turning to him, "Your right, where the heck are my manners." I pick up the skirt of my black dress in a little curtsey "My friends call me Eve." I offer a hand to him. He glances down at it, his socked toes curling a little into the clean snow before hesitantly stepping closer. the young spirit did not leave a footprint behind as he reached out and placed a hand in mine.

The instant he did the wind started to pick up, blowing the hair from his eyes revealing the baby blue orbs that were hidden underneath. he looked more solid, he felt more solid, and he didn't feel the cold anymore. His eyes widened a little in amazement as he looked towards the pretty dark haired woman, who only smiled at him. "But you can call me Death"


End file.
